Interlude: Book Five in the Doctors Smith & Saxon Series
by ss9
Summary: Modern AU: Some things are stronger than right or wrong, a romantic would call it destiny, but Missy Saxon stopped believing in fairy tales long ago. You make your own future happiness and what does it matter if you have to crawl over a few obstacles, or people, to get what you want? And what Missy Saxon wants is John Smith...he may or may not get a say in the matter.


-/-

He was beginning to have second thoughts about this.

Dr John Smith wasn't sure if it was the knowing smile that the cabbie had shot him as they had pulled up outside the address that Missy had supplied somewhere in Islington that started it. John hadn't really been listening at the time too busy trying to rein in his own conflicted reaction to Missy's possessive hand on his thigh. Normally he would have shied away from any sort of touching let alone something so blatantly intimate, yet he was torn, her touch both attracted and unsettled him in equal measure.

Or perhaps it was his own uncertainty, his own lack of confidence that he would mess this up that was making him doubt he was doing the right thing? It had been forever since he had been in this situation and although John knew what and how he wasn't sure he had the answer about if he still could…

Could he really please a woman like Missy Saxon?

What if he was terrible? …What if she laughed?

Swallowing down the blockage that seemed to close down his throat John fell back a little, hanging back in the rain as Missy fumbled in her purse for a door key.

"Missy…I…I'm not…" John's voice broke a little and he didn't dare continue for fear of really embarrassing himself, shoving his hands in his pockets and glaring down at the ground John was startled by the brushing sensation of fingertips against his chin.

"Just come in before you drown or freeze John Smith." Missy Saxon whispered gently stepping back and disappearing through the open door leaving the decision about whether to follow or not completely down to him.

She could only push him so far, John Smith needing a firm hand most of the time otherwise the damn man would spend forever before he came to realise the obvious; yet when it came down to making a decision he had to be the one to make it…he had to choose to step through that door and follow her. Shrugging off her coat and hanging it up Missy couldn't contain her sigh of relief as she heard the door behind her shut and the small dark hallway fill with the sound of John's laboured breathing.

Shivering as she felt his breath against her neck, whilst John shrugged off his own wet coat and scarf and hung them up on the hooks beside her tailored black rain mac, Missy could feel her body reacting just to the warmth of him standing next to her. God knows what would happen when he finally touched her…those perfect hands of his on her naked flesh…her nipples hardened at the mere thought of that.

Turning around Missy ran her hand slowly down the long tailored sleeve of John's jacket surprised to feel him shiver under her simple touch. Slipping her hand down and up inside the sleeve Missy raked her fingernails over the sensitive skin of his wrist, unfastening the cufflink she slipped her fingers underneath the tailored shirt, rubbing her thumb in rhythmic circles over the bones of his wrist.

"Missy…" John managed to groan out her name. After their earlier exchange even these simple and innocent little touches were undoing the last vestiges of his restraint, he was already so hard it hurt, and he was certain the moment she touched him down there he would be unable to control himself and that would just be humiliating.

Reaching up to loosen his tie Missy could see the way John was holding himself so tense it looked painful, it was almost impossible to determine from his pained expression if he was actually enjoying this…well save for the rather sizable bulge that was ruining the beautiful tailored line of his suit trousers. The unfastened tie fell to the floor and Missy moved on to the little buttons of his waistcoat, unable to resist the urge to feel his skin under her fingertips she slipped her hands underneath and tugged his shirt tails out of the waist band of his trousers before resting her palms against the small of his back.

The heat from her little hands sent flickers of flame shooting up and down his spine and John couldn't contain the half strangled moan, digging his fingernails into the palms of hands.

"You are allowed to touch me John." Missy teased him lightly, leaning back and resting her back against the hallway wall as she stared up in mischievous delight, relishing the conflicted expressions of pleasure and agony on his face.

"I can't…I don't…" John grunted forcing his eyes open and trying to convey his desperation and the words he couldn't bring himself to say aloud. "Please…"

The weight of need and conflicted desires in his blue grey gaze staggered her and Missy felt something in her melt a little, her desire to torture and torment him abated as a form of tenderness took its place. The poor boy really was starved. Leaning up Missy barely brushed her lips against John's tightly clenched mouth, savouring the taste of him before she gently reversed their positions and pressed a confused John against the wall.

"Missy?" John could only splutter in confusion as Missy pulled away from him, those little spots of heat suddenly cooling where once her hands had warmed his flesh. Yet even shivering slightly in the cool air John numbly complied as Missy slipped his jacket from his shoulders and discarded the hideously expensive tailored jacket carelessly on the tiled floor.

Smiling sweetly before her lips quirked into something a little wicked Missy tutted loudly as she caught sight of the abuse John had inflicted on those gorgeous hands of his. Lifting his hands she pressed kisses over the fingernail indentations he had left in the poor skin of his palms before guiding his hands up to close around the two hanging ends of his cashmere scarf. Closing his fingers around that instead Missy's smile only grew as she trailed her fingertips down the line of buttons of his shirt and half unfastened waistcoat before they dropped to his belt and John gave a reflexive whimper. Pulling the end of his belt free from the loops of his trousers Missy caught John's gaze, watching and waiting for the moment he realised just what she was about to do as Missy slowly sank down…

Watching as Missy sank to her knees it took far too long for the neurons in his brain to connect but when they did John could only stare in mute wonder as Missy licked her lips, her smile wide and victorious as her fingers unfastened his fly.

Oh this had definitely been worth waiting for; Missy felt her smile grow in proportion to what she had found in John Smith's trousers…though with those hands she had hoped...

Reaching up she dragged the edge of her nail along the full length of him, her gaze locked on John's face as he seemed almost close to tears, his face contorted in need and want and frustration. When she repeated the path her finger had taken with the tip of her tongue John seemed to break.

Whimpering as he felt her intimate touch John could barely resist the urge to grab Missy roughly by the hair and force his acing flesh into the warm wetness of her mouth. Instead he tightened his grip on the scarf and leant back against the welcome support of the wall as he angled his hips forward. He no longer cared if he was appearing desperate; John just honestly didn't know how much of this teasing he could take.

"Please…Please…"

"Say my name."

"Missy please." John repeated, before crying out in pain as Missy suddenly flicked her fingers sharply against his painfully engorged cock, the sensation flashing up his sensitised flesh literally bringing tears to his eyes as they flew open.

"Say MY Name." Missy repeated slowly meeting John Smith's confused gaze as she bent down and pressed a consoling kiss to his swollen tip.

Oh…Oh…He was an idiot…a blissfully lucky idiot.

"Marsaili." He rolled her name around in his mouth savouring the feel of it on his tongue; happily grunting it out again, his voice a low growl of want. "Marsaili please."

Satisfied Missy Saxon smiled and a few seconds later, so, finally did John Smith.

-/-

He had forgotten…how the hell had he forgotten just how good this could feel?

One moment his entire body was like molten fire, the next his limbs felt so heavy, almost boneless. It was like someone had reached inside him and dragged out every complicated thought and replaced it with this sense of mindless bliss, his brain was like sludge and he didn't care. John Smith had degenerated into a creature of pure sensation; he was Missy Saxon's willing plaything.

Smiling indulgently Missy wiped the corner of her mouth before she pulled up John's trousers and refastened them. Reaching up she tugged his hands down, wrapping them around her waist before sliding her hands into his back pockets. Leant casually against his long warm frame Missy relished the relaxed almost serene expression on his face. Kissing him briefly on the lips Missy was surprised to feel John's fingers reaching up to cup her face, his lips searching for hers as he pulled her back and deepened the kiss.

He could taste himself in her mouth, as his tongue stroked hers gently. He savoured the kiss, indulged in it before the inevitable embarrassment and awkwardness would descend and ruin everything. Finally though he had to pull away the press of her body and her hungry mouth was just too much. Staring down into Missy's questioning face John swallowed uncomfortably, his mind was finally clearing now that his lust had been sated and the reality of just what he had done and with who descended.

"Mi…"

"Shush." The chastisement was gently spoken but there was no missing the command in Missy's tone as was the finger she laid across his lips.

She could hear and see John Smith pulling away from her physically and emotionally, clearly he was not a man used to such afternoon interludes. Missy suspected he was both embarrassed by his own weakness and uncertain about how he should act now. He needed her to take charge.

"Upstairs…the sitting room, go and pour us both a whiskey. It's in a decanter on the side table, glasses in the cupboard underneath. I'll get us both some towels."

Nodding mutely John was relieved to be given a task, something simple; something that put some distance between them and allowed him the opportunity to regain control of his thoughts and regroup.

Watching John take the stairs quickly, Missy took a moment to regain her own equilibrium. That man could make her heart race just by kissing her like that, slow, deep, sensual…

John Smith had hidden depths that just needed exploring and Missy was determined that somehow this afternoon she would unwind him enough to get him to allow her to take at least a peek. At least things wouldn't now be over before they started, she had bought herself time to seduce him properly. Not some lust fuelled grope in the street or a quickie in the dark of a hallway that could be dismissed as a moment of madness, an encounter that was over before you knew it, but soft and slow in the rumpled sheets of her bedroom as the light of day slowly faded.

Composed and determined Missy moved to follow him, yet before she could the discarded jacket on the floor began to warble a muffled noise…a mobile…John's mobile…

Panicking for some reason Missy bundled his jacket together, muting the irritating little tune to a barely discernible noise. Holding her breath she watched the stairs waiting in dread for the moment John reappeared. Yet clearly he hadn't heard his phone go off and Missy held her breath until the damn thing stopped ringing. Sighing in relief when it finally stopped she slipped her hand into the pocket and retrieved the smartphone.

One missed call...Clara…One new message…Clara… Of course it had to be, she was persistent for an infant but Missy had learnt the rules of this game whilst little Miss Clara was still rolling around in her pampers. She was not going to ruin this afternoon.

Missy didn't even hesitate before switching the phone onto silent and slipping it back into the pocket of John's jacket then hanging the jacket on the hook next to his overcoat. Now little Miss Clara could ring the damn thing as many times as she liked, leave as many messages as she wanted but she wasn't going to derail Missy's plans for the afternoon and if things went her way the night as well.

Smoothing down her pencil skirt Missy then ran her hands over her silky shirt, strategically unfastening the first blouse button. Without the constraint of a bra her breasts moved freely when she walked up the stairs and the soft fabric was doing wonderful things to her already aroused nipples. Making a detour to the bathroom off of the small upstairs landing Missy retrieved two towels, one glance in the mirror had her unpinning the wet tendrils of hair from her half collapsed updo and wiping the slight smudge of mascara from under her eyes…she wanted to look dishevelled and sexy not like a drowned racoon.

Squeezing the excess water from her hair Missy began to towel dry it before picking up the spare towel for John and heading into the large open plan lounge kitchen that dominated this first floor. John was standing with his back to her, glass of whiskey in hand and he was looking at the books...she really should have guessed but then again the book cases in people's houses was normally what first drew her attention.

"Find anything interesting?"

Missy's sudden question startled him and for a moment John almost felt guilty like he had been caught prying through something personal. Fighting the instinct to blush John could only keep his attention on her bookshelves, of which there were many. He had been momentarily surprised on entering this room. He had expected it to be all sleek, modern and minimalist for some reason. Yet it was the complete opposite all dark panelled wood and old leather…and books…books by the hundreds…maybe even the thousand.

Books were stacked in piles waiting to be shelved, there were even stacks cluttering up the tiny little kitchenette half tucked away behind a lovely painted Chinese screen in the far corner. It was more like a gentleman's library from the turn of the century than the sitting room of an attractive successful woman and John almost felt jealous of Missy having the snug little hideaway to call her own. His own ramshackle collection was contained to his study for fear if allowed out it would similarly takeover the rest of the house.

"Too many things." John answered gruffly forcing himself to turn around and face the woman who only a few minutes before he had been so intimately acquainted with and yet a glance around her inner sanctum revealed truly how little he really knew Missy Saxon. However what really surprised him was that he wanted to…more than anything he wanted to…his curiosity was piqued and John knew he wouldn't be satisfied until he had discovered just who Missy Saxon was.

There was very little here that told him anything about her and John had looked, other than the books which spoke of her avid reading habit, which he already knew about. There were no personal photographs, hardly any knickknacks, not even a plant. Yet there was an excellent vintage of whiskey John noted, savouring the tang of the single malt on his tongue as his gaze similarly assessed Missy.

She was…striking…beautiful in an unconventional way…not pretty. Slender but not delicate…no there was something iron like about Missy Saxon, strong and yet she also struck him as almost brittle…the damage was there but it was well hidden. John should know he was a master of masks; he had worn them all his life in one way or another, always fitting in, always adapting to the new and running from the old.

"You're staring John."

"I know." He answered bluntly, enjoying the genuine pleased smile that fluttered about her lips. "I don't know if anyone has told you but you're quite nice to look at." He added surprising himself with his boldness, not sure where he found the balls to be quite so direct.

"They might have but I think now all I'll remember is that you did." Missy replied throatily, unable to hide the burn in her cheeks yet she held his gaze even as her breath quickened and her mouth suddenly felt dry as sandpaper. "Now where the hell is my whiskey?"

Snorting at her demand John returned to the little side table, topping up his own drink before retrieving the glass he had poured for her. "For Madam." He teased holding out the glass, forcing Missy to come to him and he watched her slink across the room.

It was another excellent skirt but John's gaze was lingering a little higher, that blouse looked like poured silk and John couldn't tear his eyes away from the hypnotic sway of her breasts.

"See something in particular you like?" Missy teased as she stopped within arm's reach, liberating her drink from John's hand.

Flushing like a mere slip of a boy John could only feign ignorance, dropping his gaze to his glass as he took a far too long pull from it, enjoying the way the whiskey burnt his throat and distracted him momentarily.

"Don't go shy on me John." Missy added bringing her drink up to her lips as she studied John Smith over the rim of the glass. The man was such a conundrum, at one moment so damn eloquent he took her breath away and yet the next he was like a shy bumbling boy on his first promise. "I thought I was nice to look at?"

"You are." John answered gruffly forcing his gaze up to meet hers, his eyes loitering on the pale elegant slope of her neck for a moment, on the rise and dip of her collarbone, before moving to her face.

"But?"

"I just…I don't feel I know you Marsaili, not well enough to…" John paused, his voice breaking slightly, "to go to bed with you…even though I want to." He clarified when her face suddenly shuttered and those too blue eyes of hers suddenly darted away.

"I see." Missy couldn't help the clipped tone to her voice, nor could she completely hide the disappointment that coloured her face.

"Don't be angry…"

"I'm not angry…"

"You sound angry." John countered reaching out and catching her arm in an uncharacteristic gesture, plucking the glass from her hand and setting down next to his own. Normally John shied from touching others and yet he couldn't simply let her walk away from him, not like this, not all hard lines and hidden hurt. He didn't want to hurt her that was the point of this, what was better a little hurt now or risk a larger hurt later.

He had led her on after all; he knew what this must look like especially after Missy had already been so understanding of his needs. Even now the memory of her talented mouth on him made him shiver and John knew it would haunt his dreams for many nights to come.

"I do want you…you're probably the most fascinating woman I have ever met." John whispered softly, releasing his confession into the wet strands of her hair as he gave into the urge and nuzzled his face into the curve of her neck.

"So what exactly is the problem…you want me and I want you." Missy insisted, gasping audibly as John's nuzzling turned into kisses and then suckling over her sensitive pulse point.

Pulling away grudgingly John savoured the taste of her skin and the lingering tang of whiskey. Pressing a brief kiss to her temple he slid an arm loosely around her waist.

"Because I don't know if it is the real you I want or just the you I have constructed in my head." John replied honestly. "I have created my Marsaili from you but I don't know right now where she stops and you begin and it wouldn't be fair to you to start something when…when it might not even be real outside of my head."

"You are a complete bastard you know that?" Missy choked out bitterly unable to believe what she was hearing. "You honestly expect me to buy that bullshit? You are not doing anything of this to protect me; if you were then you might have had the decency to stop me downstairs. Funny how it is only now you are having second thoughts and not earlier whilst I was getting you off."

"Marsaili."

"Don't call me that you don't have the right." Missy snapped back, finally freeing herself from the constraint of John's loose embrace.

"But that is exactly the point!" John retorted his blue grey eyes tracking her progress across the room as she downed one whiskey and then poured herself another far larger measure. "I don't have the right I have enjoyed every moment we have spent together but I still feel like I don't know you…I've seen you play Missy Saxon but I want to get to know the real you."

"No you don't, believe me you don't." Missy hissed dangerously, blue eyes flashing. "And I find this the height of irony coming from a man who hides behind as many masks as you do John Smith."

"Exactly so I know what I am talking about." John spat back, his control becoming dangerously frayed. "You told me you wouldn't hurt me, asked me to trust you, well sooner or later you are going to trust me back. I don't go to bed with strangers…"

"No you just let them blow you." Missy retorted snarkily, surprised when a moment later she was being pushed back against the nearest bookcase, her wrists captured and pressed over her head.

Squirming in his iron grip Missy couldn't contain just how much this side to John Smith was turning her on. How could one man have so many facets? One moment so shy, submissive and uncertain the next dominant and demanding.

Clenching his teeth as he fought to retain control on his explosive temper John could only glare down into Missy's face, the sudden shift from outrage to arousal was hardly subtle and he filed that knowledge away for another day.

"What is it that has you really pissed Missy? That I want you to let me in or that you're just frustrated I won't fuck you until you do?"

"Drop dead!" Missy growled tugging at her restrained wrists so she could give in to one of two impulses, either to claw his eyes out or drag that god damn mouth down to her own and stick her tongue down his throat.

"Or perhaps you are just frustrated period?" John hissed reading the lust in her eyes before his eyes dropped to her heaving breasts.

It would only be fair after all…and he still wasn't going to bed with her…he wasn't…now he only had to sound more sure of that fact inside his own head.

Leaning down he nuzzled his face into the soft swell of her breast, relishing the little whimper of need and gasp of surprise that seemed to get stuck in Missy's throat. Her blouse was lovely just as he suspected, so silky and delicate, and doing absolutely nothing to hide just how much she was enjoying his attentions. Unable to resist a moment longer John covered one of the rigid little peaks with his mouth, sucking hard and rubbing his tongue over it John relished Missy's loud moan, grazing his teeth and biting down slightly to elicit another. Pulling away briefly John noted with amusement just how transparent her white blouse went when wet before transferring his attention to her other neglected breast.

Heaven and hell was John Smith's mouth on her breast, so close to perfection and yet not quite close enough…the damn fabric of her blouse took care of that. God dammit why couldn't the damn man just rip it open? Yet Missy had her suspicions that it was deliberate, that John was tormenting her intentionally. Already she had the urge to grind herself against his leg, yet the tight restriction of her pencil skirt put paid to that and Missy could only whimper her frustration.

"Say please?" John's mocking voice drifted up from between her breasts.

Clenching her jaw Missy resolutely refused to beg, reading the amusement in John Smith's face at her stubborn refusal. No man made her plead that was her kink.

"I will have you stubborn woman. You will let me in."

"I already offered and you turned me down remember." Missy spat back relishing the way John's eyebrows seemed to scrunch together before he retaliated with a sharp nip to her breast before moving to the skin that her unfastened blouse exposed sucking that into his mouth.

"Don't you dare…" Missy grunted trying to wiggle and shake him loose but the man was like an limpet refusing to release until he chose to, and John Smith didn't chose to until he had left a damning mark on the smooth porcelain of her skin. He had marked her, branded her like some common little strumpet. "You dirty bastard!"

"If you don't watch your mouth the next one will go somewhere you can't hide it." John warned her, smarting from her choice of language, her verbal jousting hitting him in a known tender spot.

"You don't have the balls…" Missy began only to regret her outburst when John latched on to the sensitive skin just below her ear, sucking and biting he relished the way she tried to shake him off, each time returning unerring to the same spot feeling her pulse pound underneath the rasp of his tongue.

Finally John pulled away, taking a moment to admire his handiwork, the little red mark would bruise he had no doubt of that and it would a nagging visual reminder that would irritate Missy no end. She would have no choice but to wear her hair down until it faded and John looked forward to that, she had beautiful hair after all and it was a shame to keep it bundled up all the time.

"Now are we through playing silly games?" John huffed his gaze boring down into Missy's bright blue orbs.

"Just tell me something…anything that I don't know…something about you…" He added forcefully unable to keep his desperation completely from his voice, surprised when it was then that Missy seemed to look uncertain and the realisation came to him suddenly, like a bolt of lightning or inspiration. When he was resolute she matched him, blow for blow and wall for wall, but when he let a little of his own vulnerability surface so her shields slipped.

"I'll even go first." John offered surprising Missy by his generosity and she bit down on her bottom lip so as to hide the way it trembled.

"A man died and I blamed myself. I didn't pull the trigger but it was my fault, and I still blame myself." John confessed surprising himself with how much better he suddenly felt having finally admitted out loud what until now he had only repeated in the confines of his head. What he still thought no matter how many times he heard the platitudes of others reassuring him that there was nothing anyone could have done. "Yet I think I can find a way to live with it and I think that is what scares me most of all. What sort of man does that make me?"

Undone by John's blunt honesty Missy couldn't meet those blue grey eyes, already she could feel the moisture gathering behind her eyes. Yet it wasn't until she felt the press of John's lips on her cheek and then her forehead that she lost control of them and tears slipped unbidden down her cheeks.

"Shush it's just you and me." John whispered gently, releasing his grip on Missy's wrists to free his hands to cup her tear stained face; already she had given him more than he expected. Even without uttering a word she had confirmed what he suspected that somehow Missy Saxon had once been broken just as badly as he had and like him she had found a way claw herself out of the hole and move on but never really faced it. "There is nothing you can tell me that would make me turn away from you."

"Don't make promises you can't keep." Missy choked pushing away John's tender touch and forcing some distance between them, reaching for her abandoned glass of whiskey she finished the drink greedily, then whilst the false courage was still flowing through her she moved to the sideboard and opened a drawer, reaching in and pulling out the picture she couldn't bear to have on display and yet couldn't bring herself to part with. Handing it over wordlessly she quickly moved to refresh her glass.

Accepting the framed photograph John could only stare down in confusion. It was Missy much younger smiling and laughing, her arms around a handsome young man whose hands were around her and resting on…the swell of her stomach was unmistakable and yet there was no sign of a child in this house.

"What happened?" John asked softly unable to tear his eyes away from that young innocent face.

"Car accident. I was driving." Missy replied bluntly. "It was late and dark; I was heavily pregnant and tired… It's no excuse…" She trailed off. "Theo died on impact, I had to be cut out and by the time I got to the hospital it was too late to save the baby. They had to operate to stop the bleeding…everyone kept telling me how lucky I was to be alive but I didn't feel lucky." Missy added bitterly.

There were no words. John knew only too well how futile they seemed in such cases. How many times had he heard people tell him it wasn't his fault and yet he knew differently? He doubted anything he had to say would convince Missy she wasn't to blame, or that whatever culpability she had surely she had already suffered enough to account for it?

Reaching out and placing the photograph gently down on the bookcase before gathering his courage and moving to rest his hands on Missy's trembling shoulders. "Still not leaving." John whispered softly feeling the shudder that ran her body.

"You should." Missy whispered. "I am not a nice person John Smith."

"Neither am I." John confessed once more finding the beautiful slope of her neck and pressing his lips against her skin even as his hands dropped to cup her breasts. "I'm a self-absorbed narcissistic workaholic. I run roughshod over nice people, I use them and they let me."

Moaning as those wonderful hands cupped and stroked and pinched her flesh Missy leant back against John's tall frame sliding her hand back to rub it over the front of his trousers, already she could feel him stirring under her fingers. "It's a good job that I'm not a nice person then….although I would be more than willing to let you use me."

He knew then that he had lost: his resolve, any lingering shred of his morality and the battle against her, against this, against them.

It was like trying to hold back the sea a futile effort and suddenly John couldn't see the point of even trying. Besides he had gotten what he wanted hadn't he? He had wanted to see the real Marsaili, the woman in front of him not the character he had conjured in his head, and she had given him the glimpse he so craved. Only now he knew whatever he wrote was always going to pale into insignificance, he could never do her justice. Brilliant and flawed and so very alone…just like him…deep in his gut he just knew it.

Letting out a shuddering breath John lifted his mouth to the delicate curve of her earlobe, biting down on the soft little lobe before whispering hungrily. "I think it's about time we took this upstairs…Marsaili…"

Choking down her cry of relief Missy stopped her teasing, her hands moving to momentarily cover John's over her breasts, savouring this moment as their fingers threaded together. Then pushing their joined hands off of her body she turned and offered him a soft open smile before giving him a playful pull towards the stairs. Returning her smile with a shy one of his own John allowed her to lead him, catching up only to press a chaste kiss to her lips as they reached the foot of the stairs. Then hand in hand they took each step one at a time, knowing with each one that there was no going back now.

-/-


End file.
